The Last
by Pink Moogle
Summary: Sixteen years ago, the race known as 'moogles' disappeared from the macrocosm of Hyne... Or so they thought. A single mutated survivor of the forgotten species begins an endeavor to get answers, and find her savior.


**A/N:** Hello there. It is I, Pink Moogle, here to write her first ever fan fiction. So, here is the scoop: I decided the only way I could perpetuate my lazy procrastinating ass to write something is if I wrote something regarding my OC, Pink Moogle. Just as an 'fyi', she's not designed to look like the moogle that appears on the Triple Triad card in FFVIII, but rather, more or less like the mogs that appear in Kingdom Hearts. That's how I designed her years ago, and I didn't what to change it. So sue me. :P Also, it should be noted that although the world of Final Fantasy VIII is unnamed, I named it 'Hyne', because I'm oh-so creative and couldn't think of anything else. Although, I'm willing to change that if someone gives me a better name for the world in which they live.

Anyway, read, enjoy, and maybe… Review?

**Disclaimer:** Unfortunately, I do not own rights to Final Fantasy VIII, because if I did, there would be a sequel/movie/remake by now. Nor do I have the rights to the mooglely physique of my far from Mary Sue OC [Credit to Kingdom Hearts, but the rest of Pink Moogle's character design is all me, baby!

_Pink Moogle_

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**+The Last+**

_**Chapter 1 :: Amble, Amble, Amble.**_

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"_Kuuuppo!"_

_A single strange cry escaped the esophagus of the disfigured mammal that lurked in the shadows of the court yard. Its gullet filled with a fierce burning sensation as the last few droplets of liquid in its entire body were wasted on the vain call. The mouth of the female creature opened to scream once more, but it wouldn't come. Nothingness echoed through her lips. _

_The body of the 'thing' remained inert. Weakness had long since stricken the animal paralyzed, and now, even her thoughts had become inaudible. Darkness was a familiar wide expanse that had plagued her in her last four years of life, blind from birth. This black murk though, the one that now consumed her vision, was different._

_Was she dead? Was she ever…Alive? No, she had to have been alive. She could hear something, or in this case, "somethings", playing past her vision._

"_Go get the ball! It went over there!" One tiny female voice piped distantly. _

_An even younger sounding, yet a bit closer, male tone cheerfully responded, "Kay, Sis!" The tiny pitter-patter of his steps was now approaching the location of the body and, of course, the 'ball' that they spoke of. _

"_Children!" An obviously older women's voice rang out "It's getting dark. Come inside." _

_The pointed ears of the pink misshapen monster caught wind of the sound of fleeting footsteps, but they were soon stifled by noises occurring inches from her; someone was rustling the bushes were she laid._

"_Gimme a sec!" The culprit yelled back. The animal could hear an excited gasp from the young boy as he picked up the round toy that was adjacent to her corpse. Then, she heard the flabbergasted one to follow._

-

I saw them...Long blue panoramas stretching before my green orbs as I began to awake. Fluffy white shapeless clouds slowly crossed them…Wait. Was it the clouds that were moving or the sky that held them? I guess it doesn't matter. Either way, the firmament of Windhill was, and is, always a pleasant thing to awake to. After all my traveling about Hyne upon ships I've stowed away on, I've yet to find a location as beautiful or as peaceful as that wonderful, breath-taking village…Well, besides the place I considered home, of course. I'm sure 'Home' is far more serene then this place. If only I could remember it…

I brought myself to my "feet", and expanded my "hands" out to either side of me as to stretch away all the kinks and pains I may have gained during the night. I was lucky no one ever embarked off the path in Windhill…If they found me, laying there in the fields of flowers, they would of… Well, there's no telling, but many would get freaked out to say the least. I mean, seeing a moogle these days is down right extraordinary in itself, but me? I'm even more bizarre.

'_I guess I risk a lot staying so close to a town with these chocobos'_ I mused, standing there gazing out at the giant-bird infested pasture,_ 'But something about this setting is so…Nostalgic.'_

It was a strange feeling… a longing for the past was very alien for me. And here I thought I had buried it long ago, but with every passing day I couldn't deny the anxious feeling that was building inside of me. I wanted to see _him_. The nameless child that had surely saved me from death all those years ago—I needed to thank him. I needed him to see that I was still alive. I needed to tell him with my own voice that I had gained one. I only had a voice and a childhood face to go on, and as much as I tried, I could not remember his name … How was I supposed to find a now most likely grown man based on that alone? How long, how far, was this quest going to take me? Well, as a homeless freak, what else could I possibly do with my life? Maybe…Just maybe, if I could find him, he'd take me in like he did before. Either way, I had the intimation that he was close.

"Ok, so there's a train leaving for Galbadia Garden from Timber tomorrow…" I announced out loud as if the near by chocobos could comprehend my words. Hyne, maybe they could! Who would figure a moogle could understand them? Yet, I do. "If I start walking to Timber around noon…" Lacking a watch, I began to observe the sun's placement "I should get there with plenty of time to spare."

_Acrrrkkk_ my stomach retorted. It had been a couple of days since I last ingested something, but, what could I? What were moogles supposed to eat? I personally lived on garbage and leftovers, but I was well aware that that was not a proper "mooglely" diet. "Urf, I'm gonna have to eat something if I'm going to make this trek." The chocobos did not respond. I had no choice; I had to venture into town.

Before I could go there, though, I had to find some kind of reflective surface: Just because I was a freak of nature, didn't mean I couldn't be a nice looking freak of nature. Luckily, a large puddle left by the Windhill irrigation system a few yards from me fit the bill, and I starred down into it.

I wasn't sure what moogles were supposed to look like, but I was certain I wasn't it. The puddle held shocking-green eyes that gazed upward, surrounded by a light baby-pink round face. Set in the midst of my apparently half human, half moogle facial features was a large red ball-like nose, complete with plastic texture, much too big for my one and a half foot body, as it always had appeared. At least it matched the globe that bounced upon the single antenna that arched itself out of my hair between my two pointed cat-like ears. In fact, if not for that sphere on my head, the petite purple wings that sprouted from my back, and the fact that I stood comfortably upright, I might have been able to pass as a large clothed feline. I had paws, after all, even though not clawed and slightly more finger like then a cat.

I brought my dominant "hand", the right, up to the top of my skull and flattened out the bit of hair I had. Well…I had a lot of hair, I was covered in fur, but the hair on my head, besides the color, was more or less like a human's. I brought my paws down into the little body of water, bringing some off it into my face with a splash. I waited for the fluid to halt its ripples, and then continued to look down. Admittedly, I took pride in my human-like sense of style. Sure, the clothes I wore were ones of small children that I had brought from 'Home' at some point, but I enjoyed donning my small flame-embroidered jeans, and that plain black tee-shirt. Of course, there was always my necklace too.

That necklace was at least ten years old by now; it was a heavy tarnished silver chain that fell in half-way up my torso, farther then it was supposed to, as it was not meant for the scale of my figure, to meet a charm that seemed to be a hybrid of a lion's head and a cross. Not exactly girly or pretty, most people would pass up such a homely piece of jewelry. Not me, though. It was one of the few things I had from 'Home';_ he_ had given it to me, and _he_ owned a matching one. Whether he still had it or not was variable, but whenever I didn't wear it, I felt…disconnected. From what, I wasn't sure, but I loathed that sensation, and therefore, I went on sporting it.

I grabbed my old make-shift bag full of the scarce possessions I had, slug it over my shoulder, and nodded to the chocobos as to wordlessly symbolize saying goodbye. They did not return the gesture, but, I did expect them to either. They were dumb animals. Truth be told, I was jealous of that in my own little way.

I wiped the spark of envy off my sleeve, and proceeded to amble to the wooden gate that separated the main path through Windhill with the meadow. I slowly craned my head out of the fence opening, turning it every which way, scanning the grounds for humans that could spot me and dub me a monster. No one was to be seen, and subsequently, I stepped onto the dirt lane, spotting the "Chocobo Crossing" sign in the process. My strides were small and my suspicious, careful pace had me trailing a snail, but I had no choice. I was fortunate, though: The day was young, and in the sleepy, peacefully poignant town of Windhill, no one was awake to see the last moogle making its way into the main part of it.

Something of my stature would usually consider the buildings of that Galbadian village gigantic, but after viewing the tall apartments of Dollet, or the sky piercing towers of Deling, size no longer intimidated me. Not even the mansion that boasted in the middle of the community set apprehension into me. The only thing about Windhill that sent a shiver up and down my spine was the constant ghostly presence that blanketed every inch of the small town. I always had to pause when I entered that part of town in reverence, as if the haunting feeling possessed me to do so.

_Have. To Stop. Dilly-Dallying._ I commanded myself firmly when I realized I was lingering at the entrance. I was on a mission after all. Without food, how did I expect my ten inch legs to carry me all the way to Timber? Even with food in my stomach, it would be quite an undertaking. Forcing myself away from distraction, I loomed to the dumpster near the long abandoned pub. Either though food was no longer served there, I noticed the residents of Windhill often placed their spoils within that dumpster. It was my best bet of food, unless I wanted to back track in the direction of the store on the opposite side.

"JACK POT!" I exclaimed after a momentary sifting through the trash, and indeed it was: a clean, pristine, wrapped bag of potato chips. Oh, if only I could be so consecrated all the time! However, the superior treasure lied underneath; reading material! A seemingly recent periodical that was actually _readable_ for once. It was undeniably a bit squalid in appearance, but I could discern the words, and that was all that mattered. Swiftly, I grasped my jewels and scurried to the opposite side of the dumpster where I could remain unseen throughout my meager "breakfast".

I popped open the bag and set it down alongside my other belongings. These rations would have to last me at least into Timber, and I needed to eat them sparingly at the minimal. Simultaneously, I reached down inside my food source and plopped myself upon the ground, and then began to examine the initial page of the newspaper I had found as I slipped the fried vegetable into my mouth. The main article was baffling:

_**Dollet Under Attack; War on the Horizon?**_

_The war-time powerhouse of the Galbadian Garden has struck again, this time throwing us into what seems to be a 'Civil Invasion'. _

_The motive of the Garden at this time is uncertain, but it seems it has something to do with the communication tower. Currently, there haven't been any casualties, but as the Galbaian army continues to release outlandish new technologies into the city, citizens of Dollet are becoming too afraid to leave their own homes. Fearing the worse for his town, the mayor of Dollet, Raymond Dolleton, has contacted the military Garden of Balamb for aid._

_Cid Kramer, Balamb Garden Headmaster, had this to say: "He sounded panicked over the phone. I had no choice after hearing his plea then to set up the deployment of some of our finest students here."_

_When we commented on the usual mercenary nature of Balamb's students, he stated that this battle would come as no charge to Dollet as it would "…serve as a good [SeeD exam." He then continued by reassuring us that although these students were not yet SeeDs, they were still quite capable of the job, and that he had faith in each and every one of them._

_Sometime tomorrow afternoon, the aspiring SeeDs, which are apparently some kind of specialized soldiers, will be sent off the dock in Balamb to board ships… _

_**Story Continued on page 3A.**_

Now fully immersed in the suspense of this fierce article I vigorously flipped through the pages of the rag, but to no avail: page 3A, to my misfortune, was the only missing sheet.

I muttered an obesity; it was indeed a blessing to be able to read even that much, but now I was abandoned on the periphery of a sharp cliff hanger, and I was hungry to consume more of the words that this particular journalist had to offer. It was driving me _mad. _I had to know of the fate of Dollet…Or at least the end of that sentence.

Greedy for information, I dove back into the dumpster were I had originally found the paper, crossing my "fingers" as much as I could for a miracle from Hyne that page 3A was located somewhere within that disposal unit. I viciously swam through the piles of filth, not faltering at the least from the scent, skimming every last piece of waste in quest of the that single folio. I was _literally_ dumpster-diving.

It was useless though, and page 3A was no where to be found. My idiotic determination had gotten me nothing but a stink now wavering off my body. Not to mention, the entire ordeal had gotten me sour, and in a pout, I could not bring myself to read anymore of that so-called "treasure" of mine, or even feast anymore. I decided the only thing I could do was walk it off, and start on my 'merry' way to Timber. Reluctantly, I packed up my sustenance and whatever remained of the journal.

I had begun my journey.

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**End of Chapter Comments:** Well, I hope that wasn't too short. If it was, tell me and I'll be sure to make the next Chapter longer. I know the ending was kind of "blah", and I didn't really mean end it there, but I was just so anxious to submit what I had, I couldn't control myself. Don't worry, the story picks up real soon so don't give up on me just yet. I hope you had fun reading. :D R&R, please.

_Pink Moogle_


End file.
